


Shoot me

by Annatalia_Malfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Cultural Festivals, Draco is class president, Draco is dumb, Duets, F/F, F/M, Harry is captain of the archery club, M/M, Mostly Dialogue, Multi, Pansy has a crush on Hermione, draco has a pretty voice, so does Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annatalia_Malfoy/pseuds/Annatalia_Malfoy
Summary: Draco gets roped into singing with the boy who's supposed to ensure his victory over Romilda Vane. And a lot of people learn never to doubt the maelstrom that is Hermione Jean Granger.[Fluff. Featuring Cultural festivals, maid cafes, Pansy's crush on Hermione and an oblivious Draco Malfoy.]
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Implied Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Shoot me

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rRVtg5EcCw
> 
> >this is the fucking song that had me enthralled

"Come on Draco, the song was cut down! It's just a _short_ duet, promise!" 

There is the sound of paper crinkling as Draco snatches the paper from Hermione's hands. He peruses it before he eyes Hermione in disbelief, "It's in _Japanese_."

"You're part Japanese, right?"

" _Barely_ , and that doesn't mean I _can_ speak the language." 

"Pansy tells me you _do_."

"Damn that bitch! Look, Hermione, I _have_ responsibilities. I'm the class president and it's _not_ exactly painless presiding over a bunch of dingbats who think a maid cafe is such a fantastic and novel idea, _hardly_ ever _done_ before." 

" _Can't_ you overrule them?"

"We _subscribe_ to a fucking democracy. Ruled by the majority who think turquoise and cyan are the _same_ fucking shade of blue. Democracy _prevailed_ and now I have to make sure that the maid cafe's not going to look like a _clusterfuck_ of colors. "

". . .I hardly think classroom politics should be so convoluted as to cause you so _much_ agony, Draco. Besides, the election _is_ democratic enough. Once you get elected, you're free to become a dictator. Also, _I'm_ the Student Council President, I have a broader scope of responsibilities so you have _no_ right to lament your relatively _insubstantial_ burden to my face."

" _You_ ran for the election because you're a _masochist_. It was _your_ choice, oh great one. _I_ , on the other hand, was _roped_ into the gig because _Pansy's_ a sadistic bint. I did _not_ ask for this."

For all of his prattle, Hermione knows for a fact that Draco enjoys the power he wields in holding the position, and it also gives him the opportunity to indulge his penchant for theatrics—to talk of woes and the torment he endures under the oppressive stupidity of his peers.

She should've let Pansy handle the boy, honestly. 

Hermione sighs and rubs her face, "You want to win the booth contest, right?" 

Draco perks up significantly because yes, he might be a _tiny_ bit invested in the competition.

In the past, the school just gives a flimsy plastic trophy to whichever class bags first place in terms of profitability. But this year, they have generously informed the student populace that they will be awarding the best set of rooms in the upcoming school trip to the winner, and considering the abject trauma of last year's shitshow ( _stifling hot rooms, disgusting and unbearable bedding, snoring roommates that almost tempted him to commit murder_ ), Draco is resolved to seize the prize.

There is no way in high heaven that he would let Romilda Vane get her sticky hands on a lovely set of rooms that were meant _for_ Draco and his minions. 

Even if he does have to fight tooth and nail for it.

"I _might. . ._ be able to help you."

"How? Are you going to _tamper_ with results for _me_?" Draco places a hand on his heart, euphoric at the notion of the straight-laced Student Council President crumbling from her ivory moral tower and all for _little_ Draco Malfoy. 

"Hell, _no_. Stop looking so happy, Malfoy. But I might be able to arrange something to your advantage." 

"What?"

The curly-haired girl lets out a defeated huff,". . .My boyfriend's best pal, Harry Potter."

Draco wrinkles his forehead, " _Who?_ "

Hermione stares, incredulous, " _Seriously_? You don't know the captain of the archery team from class 3-1? The guy everybody's been hounding since forever." 

"I don't. . . _really_ know the guy?" 

"How can you not? _Everyone_ knows him."

"Except me, I guess. Besides, why is he so great anyway? What can that guy do? _Shoot_ arrows like Cupid?" He snorts. 

Hermione chuckles are full of promise as she shakes her head, "You have _no_ idea." 

* * *

Draco's not really convinced of Hermione's plan, but Pansy, once she learns of the proposal, assures him of the certainty of his victory with that particular card in his sleeve. 

He usually does not trust Pansy because she's a self-serving wench, but considering their interests, in this instance, are perfectly aligned _(they're in the same class so she and Draco are on the same boat)_ , it would be folly to repudiate such an apparently magnificent offer. 

So here he is, lounging in the music room with Terry Boot, paper in hand. Terry's a great pianist from class 3-3 who Hermione managed to bully into making the new arrangement for the song. 

"I think I heard this song before," Draco says, an earbud in one ear, listening to the melody as he eyes the lyrics. 

"It's possible, it was somewhat popular." 

"What boggles my mind though from what scant linguistic ability I possess is that it's a love song using summer as the primary imagery right? So why the fuck did Hermione choose this when it's fucking _November_?" 

Terry chuckles, "Everyone likens summer to fun, movement, and excitement. Hermione wants to recreate that ambiance."

Draco tilts his head and nods repeatedly in acquiescence, "Makes sense, and that's why _she's_ our lord president."

"So, want to practice? Your partner should be here in about ten minutes though he still needs to change, so fifteen minutes tops. In the meantime I could play for you, I know my earbud's old and shit." 

Draco nods and sits properly, attentive.

Terry smiles shyly before starting his piece. [The piano croons softly at first and then a jaunty tune spills from the ivory keys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rRVtg5EcCw). His fingers glide across the keys: slow, fast, up, and down. They flow gracefully and seamlessly, swift and precise.

The music evokes memories of summer days: bright and cheery; and Terry's body molds into the moving melody, swaying to the sweet strain.

Draco feels his heart swell, "That was amazing, Terry! Now I have the sudden urge to wiggle my shoulders to the tune."

Draco hums and wiggles appropriately as Terry looks on in deep amusement. 

"Can you sing the first line for me Draco? I just want to know how I can spin this thing."

"Can I sing without accompaniment?"

"Sure."

"Fair warning, I have an unusual voice."

Terry nods in acknowledgment. Draco lets out an audible inhale—

" _Kimi no toriko ni natte shimae ba kitto. . ._ "

Terry startles in his seat so hard he smacks some of the piano keys, inadvertently producing an uneven tune, his eyes bugging out of its sockets.

Draco wants to curl in on himself and also. . . _die_. 

"You have a _girl's_ voice, all _high_ and _thin_ ," he says, his smile gradually growing widely. 

Draco glares at Terry with one eye, too embarrassed to open the other in the sheer radiance of Terry's delight. 

"Now I _know_ why Hermione insisted to have you. I was initially unsure of this, you know? Since I think a boy-girl duet would enliven the song and produce a more appropriate harmony. Now I'm sold! I'm _never_ doubting Hermione ever again." 

"You _really_ shouldn't," Draco answers _wryly_.

* * *

"Can you sing the first line again, Draco? I have to see where I can pop in with the piano." 

"Why not _start_ with the piano?"

" _Nah_ , your voice is _extremely_ addicting. I'd like to highlight it first, then the piano can supplement its brilliance." 

". . . _Fuck_ you. Just _fuck_ you, man."

* * *

The door opening blindsides Draco. 

" _Harry!_ _Nice_ timing man, we're _almost_ finished," Terry jokes. 

The boy, _Harry_ , rolls his eyes at Terry but angles his whole body so he's facing Draco. Then he _bows_ , "My apologies for being late."

Draco returns the bow awkwardly, " _Uh_ , it's okay. I _don't_ have anything to do, _really_."

Terry quirks an eyebrow, "Aren't _you_ the president of class 3-4? The cultural festival's coming up man, you have a _shit ton_ to do."

Honestly, this boy _needs_ to learn the _fucking_ mood. 

Harry _clears_ his throat.

* * *

While Terry acquaints Harry with the song, Draco _freely_ stares at the boy. 

He's _taller_ than Draco, has a lean torso topped with broad, well-proportioned shoulders. 

He has a stoic countenance, rarely changes expression even at Terry's jibes and jokes ( _admittedly, they weren't any good_ ).

And he's pretty too. 

* * *

When it's time for them to sing, Draco is cautious. 

The peculiar quality of his voice is what drives Draco to avoid using it in the first place because people were _usually_ assholes about it. 

Terry is a prime example.

But when he surreptitiously casts a glance at Harry when he starts singing, there isn't a shred of mirth. 

He supposes there are advantages to emotionless people. Their complete disinterest in making a mockery of his reedy voice, for example. 

( _He fails to hear the sharp intake of breath and the look of adoring wonder in those green eyes._ )

* * *

When it comes to the part where they have to harmonize, Draco almost falters. 

"[ _Yoake made umibe wa shitte. . .shiosai ni tsutsumaretai ne...kanojo no shigusa ga amai ne..."_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rRVtg5EcCw)

Well, _fuck_ pretty boy can sing. 

* * *

After that Terry relegates Harry to a secondary role. 

"Harry, for the remaining you just shadow Draco, okay? Just sing low in the background."

"Why?" Draco interjects, because if _anything_ , Draco's _not_ an attention-hoarder, "I already had tons of lines. I sing intro."

"It's not about that _Draco-chan_. Just trust me, okay? I'm arranging this thing, it would sound _better_ that way."

Draco eyes the grinning pianist with distaste. 

* * *

"You're finally done? _Ugh_ it's not like your recording a musical score. What the fuck took you so long?"

"If you hadn't involved me in the first place, we wouldn't have to stay late, bitch." 

Pansy flutters her eyelashes, "I have to get back at you for what you did to my skirt."

"You could've bought a new one."

"I _needed_ to see you in _pain_ , first."

" _No_ , you just have a _huge_ boner for Hermione."

Pansy hisses and is about to claw Draco's eyes out when the door to the music room slides open, revealing his duet partner. 

He nods at Draco and mutters a low "Parkinson," to Pansy. 

"Potter," Pansy replies cooly. 

And with that cheery response, _Potter_ departs. 

". . .Wait, _that's_ Harry Potter?"

"Why? Who do you think _that_ was?"

"I don't know a Harry _something_ , maybe."

"A Harry. . . _Potter_ , darling."

"Harry is a perfectly _common_ name, you know. It's entirely reasonable to not associate a _Harry_ with the surname Potter upon meeting."

Pansy blinks, " _You're_ dumb."


End file.
